Memories
by bohemiankat
Summary: Pre-RENT; told from different perspectives as the story goes on. The first few chapters are from Roger's point of view.
1. Default Chapter

"What the?" My hand started shaking so hard, I could barely hold the phone. The note I had been  
  
holding onto for dear life, in my free hand, had fallen unceremoniously to the floor. April had scribbled it  
  
out in her same familiar handwriting with a black sharpie marker hours before. "We've got AIDS." It  
  
read.  
  
The girl on the other end of the receiver was screaming my name, now. I recognized her voice.  
  
Must have been a friend of April's.  
  
"Roger? Roger? ROGER! Are you there?" I nodded my head, in shock. People can't hear you  
  
when you nod on the phone.  
  
"Uh-huh."  
  
"April's dead. We found her in the bathroom." The phone connection became kinda fuzzy, and I heard the girl  
  
sobbing faintly. I don't remember much from that point on, except that I must've blacked out or something. When I  
  
woke up, I had fallen from the chair, and Mark, Maureen, and Collins were hovering over me. Benny was  
  
watching TV.  
  
"He's awake. Roger, how many fingers am I holding up?" I pushed Mark's hand out of my face.  
  
I knew he was just trying to help, but, still, it was annoying. "Go 'way." I murmured. "Leave me alone." I guess I  
  
must have looked pretty bad, or something, because I've never seen Collins, who's usually pretty laid back, look that  
  
nervous.  
  
"What happened?" This time, it was Collins. I didn't feel like forcing my mouth to say the  
  
words, "April is dead," so I shoved my crumpled up note in his face, assuming that Collins, bright boy that  
  
he is, would take the hint. He did, and his face looked about how I felt right then. He and Mark walked  
  
away, leaving me on the floor, alone as I had requested. I could hear Benny flipping channels in the next  
  
room, oblivious to my suffering. Maureen sat down next to me.  
  
"Sorry, pookie." She whispered. "Goodnight." Someone, must have been Mark, tossed me a  
  
blanket and pillow. It was the single most miserable night of my life. Ever. I watched the lights go out all  
  
around me, and drew the thin blanket up around my ears. I cried myself to sleep for the first time since I  
  
was a little kid.  
  
When I awoke early that morning, sunlight streamed through the window and across my pillow,  
  
forcing me to open my eyes. I groaned sleepily and relocated to the couch across the room, where it was  
  
considerably less sunny. I buried myself in the blanket, not wishing to face the day quite yet. A voice from  
  
across the room called, "Good morning, sleepyhead!" Evidently, I was not alone. 


	2. Close on Roger: Chapter Two

It was Mark.  
  
"Errrr." I groaned. "Sleeping." I turned away and folded my arms. I could hear Benny shuffle  
  
in, wearing his ratty old slippers.  
  
"What's going on? I heard talking. Is Roger awake?" He yawned, then Mark whispered.  
  
"Shh. He's kind of awake, kind of not. Hard to tell, with his back turned."  
  
"Oh. Is he. okay?"  
  
"I dunno. I've only gotten three unintelligible syllables out of him so far." Just to show them that  
  
I was awake, and hearing every word they said, I rolled over on my other side, peeked out from under the  
  
covers, and gave them what has come to be known amongst my friends as Roger's Evil Stare- so scary it's  
  
deserving of capital letters. There was an awkward silence after that, which Mark broke.  
  
"Roge, what do you want for breakfast?"  
  
"Nothing." I sat up, yawned, and ran a hand through my choppy hair. I felt like I'd been run over  
  
by a semi-truck. You know the feeling. completely numb, maybe a little nauseous? My thoughts,  
  
scattered though they were, kept returning to the fact that April was gone- as in forever- and she wasn't  
  
going to come back. I barely thought about my own problems. Just as well, I guess.  
  
Maureen, barely awake, stumbled into the room.  
  
"What's happening, Mark?"  
  
"Nothing. Man, you're up early."  
  
"Yeah, I know. Where's Collins?"  
  
"Didn't he have a job interview today?" Mark turned to me. "'Morning, Roge."  
  
"Morning."  
  
"Maureen and I are eating at the Life Café for breakfast. We'll understand it you don't wanna  
  
come. Just know that the option's open, okay?"  
  
"Me and Alison will be there too." Benny interjected.  
  
"Like I said. You don't have to come."  
  
"Thanks. I'll be fine here."  
  
"Aww, Pookie!" Mark grabbed his camera, and herded the other two out the door.  
  
"You sure you'll be okay?"  
  
"Yeah." He ducked out the door, and locked it behind him. Finally, I was alone, or so I thought.  
  
I went to my room, pulled on an old sweatshirt Mark and Maureen had given me for my birthday, and  
  
rooted through my almost empty sock drawer to find the money my mom had sent me "for emergencies  
  
only". Believe me, this was an emergency. I was headed for the door, almost home free, when someone-  
  
none other than Thomas B. Collins- pulled back on my shoulder. I flinched.  
  
"Collins! What the hell do you think you're doing?"  
  
"Might ask you the same thing. You wouldn't be going to see The Man again, now, would you,  
  
Roger?"  
  
"No.." An obvious lie. I knew he knew it was a lie; it was pretty obvious, the way I rocked back  
  
and forth on my heels and averted me eyes. Like I said, Collins is smart. He saw right through me.  
  
"Roger, you might as well tell me the truth." His cold gaze pinned me to the very spot where I  
  
stood just then. "You don't need to be doing this. It's such a bad habit- the worst." I cut him off.  
  
"No, no. You listen to me, Tom. I'm miserable; I need a fix! You don't understand!"  
  
"No, you're right. I don't understand how someone can voluntarily do that to themselves, Roger.  
  
I don't understand! It's not gonna make your problems go away. Using again won't bring April back, and  
  
even if it does distract you from your pain for the moment, the pain's still gonna be there when you get  
  
back. And it sure won't make you healthy again, either."  
  
"I know!" I was almost pleading with him now. "I can take care of myself, thanks just the same.  
  
You're not my dad, Collins. And I know using isn't gonna fix my problems. Come on, move outta the  
  
way."  
"No." He barred my only exit. "I'm not letting you. None of us wants to watch you destroy  
  
yourselves- it hurts us too. Do you know how many nights me, Mark, Maureen, and even Benny, waited  
  
up for you and April, to see if you'd come home? Sometimes you didn't come home. When you did, you  
  
were in a state that none of us wanted to see. It was the single hardest thing any of us had ever done,  
  
watching you inject that stuff into your own veins, and stay silent. Now I'm saying something- stop. If  
  
you can't stop for you, stop for us. Stop for Mark. It was really hard on Mark."  
  
"Who cares if I stop now? What else can happen to me?"  
  
"Yeah, but wouldn't it be a real credit to your name if, now, of all the odd times, you could go  
  
clean?" My eyes widened with fear.  
"No! I can't do it! I'm too weak!" I sobbed.  
  
"I know you're scared. We'll all help you. All of us." Despite my protesting, he guided me back  
  
into the loft, and made me sit down on the couch.  
  
"Roger, promise me you won't leave this apartment to go buy from The Man." I glared at him in  
  
response. "If," he added as an afterthought, "If I ever see you using again, I'm turning you into the cops.  
  
Do I make myself clear?" And on that note, he left me alone again, slamming and locking the door behind  
  
him as he went.  
  
I sighed. Not only did I feel really crappy, but I was bored, too. I decided to watch people outside  
  
through a small window. Sometimes it can be entertaining to watch people. I spotted the dancer who lives  
  
one floor down walking up eleventh street. I think I'd met her once before- what was her name?  
  
Margaret? Melanie? Mimi? Yeah, her name was Mimi. I was busy thinking about where I'd seen her  
  
before, when the phone rang. I was feeling kind of weak, and didn't trust myself to walk across the room  
  
without falling, so I let the machine get it.  
  
"SPEAK!"  
"Roger?" It was my mom. "Hi sweetie! You haven't called me in awhile, so I thought I'd call  
  
you. I talked to your friend, Mark, the other day." Mark had been talking to my mom? "He told me you  
  
were asleep. Well, I guess you're busy now, so I'll just hang up. Love, Mom." That was incredibly weird.  
  
Now that the message was over, the loft was completely silent, and not the good kind of silent, either.  
  
I hate being alone with my thoughts. They tend to be unpleasant. I kept thinking about April, and  
  
HIV, and other stuff like that. Suppose I meet someone, like that'll ever happen, but suppose I do. What  
  
do I say, "Gee, I'm sorry, I'd love to go out with you, but I can't, I'm afraid to get close to people because I  
  
might die soon."? Yeah, that's smooth. I sound like I'm babbling on. Precisely why I hate being alone  
  
with my thoughts.  
  
A wave of nausea swept over me, and shivers racked my body, though I wasn't cold, or anything.  
  
I didn't like this feeling at all. Scary. I was stretched out on the couch, once again, when I heard a key  
  
turn in the lock. Time to put on the brave face again.  
  
Mark, Maureen, and Benny set their coats on the table, then went over to check on me.  
  
"How ya feeling, Roge?"  
  
"Mark, I'm sorry."  
"For what?" They all looked confused.  
  
"I'm going clean, Mark." Everyone gave a huge sigh of relief, and smiled. Just then, I started  
  
shivering again. Really shivering. I was covered in sweat. This was bad. Mark touched the back of his  
  
hand to my  
  
forehead, and exchanged a nervous glance with Maureen and Benny.  
  
"Man, he's burning up! Maureen, get some water. Benny, get some towels and a bucket!"  
  
"Mark?"  
  
"What is it? We're all here for ya, buddy."  
  
"Get outta the way, I'm gonna puke." A few miserable hours later, Mark and Maureen had fallen  
  
asleep on the floor. Benny was  
  
watching me clumsily feed myself soup- I say clumsily because, a, I was really shaky and not able to hold  
  
the spoon steady, and, b, I wasn't keeping any of the soup down.  
  
"C'mon, Roge. You can do it. Way to eat that soup." Benny's form of encouragement. Not too  
  
helpful when you're eating. Collins burst through the door. "Hey, Collins. How'd the interview go?"  
  
"Great! I'm going to MIT to teach a Computer Age Philosophy course!"  
  
"All right! Way to go, man!"  
  
"Wanna go celebrate?"  
  
"Can't." He gestured towards me. "I have to baby-sit." I was too weak to give him an Evil Stare,  
  
so I barfed on his shoes, out of spite.  
  
"Crap! Alison gave me these! She's gonna kill me!" He ran of to change shoes, and Collins took  
  
his place by the couch.  
  
"Well, kid, you're stronger than I thought. Good for you. I'm going away for awhile, but you're  
  
gonna be just fine. You've got Mark, and Maureen, and," He looked around the room. "and Mark." He  
  
trailed off. I sat up, covered in beads of sweat, screaming at the top of my lungs.  
  
"I'm on fire! Someone help! I'm on fire!!!" My skin was burning.  
  
"No, you're not. Calm down."  
  
"Huh?"  
  
"What the hell is going on?" Mark and Maureen were awake now. I kicked the blankets off of  
  
me, and dove onto the floor. Stop, drop, and roll- like we learned in kindergarten. It wasn't working; the  
  
flames were still burning my skin. "I'm on fire! Somebody do something!" I grabbed Mark's hand- he  
  
looked more scared than I'd ever seen him. "Mark! Mark! Help me!"  
  
"Collins, get ice water, quick!" Next thing I knew, someone had poured really cold water on my  
  
face. At least I wasn't on fire anymore.  
  
"Thanks, you guys."  
  
"Uh, don't mention it." By the looks in their eyes, I could tell this was a little more than any of us  
  
wanted to deal with right now. No kidding. For sure, no one should ever have to see their friend like this.  
  
Then again, no one should ever have to feel like this- sick one minute, on fire the next.  
  
Collins and Benny lifted me back onto the couch. I looked at them all. So, what happens next? 


End file.
